


Myths & Rumors

by AlannaLioness



Series: Winterhawk Week 2k15 [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Theme: Fiction, Winterhawk Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaLioness/pseuds/AlannaLioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has always heard the myths of the Winter Soldier, now he is learning the truth of Bucky Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Myths & Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Winterhawk Week, Theme: Fiction. 
> 
> Originally posted to my Tumblr, natthewombat.tumblr.com

              It was when Clint was young and stupid, before SHIELD found him and dragged him from the gutter that was his life, when Clint first heard the myths. The myths of the greatest assassin that ever lived. The ghost in the machine, the man who never missed and was never caught. No one knew who he was or who he worked for or even if he was just one man. There were a million theories, each one stranger than the last. Clint had heard everything from ‘a secret order of ninjas’ to ‘an immortal Soviet vampire’. But Clint didn’t care about the myths or the theories, all he cared about was the fact that the guy was good; every merc wanted to be him, and Clint wanted to beat them all. He wanted finally to be good at something, to feel necessary, needed. So he got very, very good at his job, always trying to beat a legend may not be true. In the end, it didn’t matter if he was better or worse than some mythic assassin, SHIELD heard of him anyways. And when Coulson offered him the choice, he seized it with both hands. It was a chance to finally do some good, and he had been operating in shades of grey for far too long.

                It was in the halls of SHIELD that he heard the tales of The Winter Soldier; it didn’t take him long to figure out that they were one in the same. Despite finally joining the good guys, he was still being haunted by the ghost of a man who may never have existed. At least, at SHIELD there was a little more skepticism in regards to the myth’s verity. And yet, the theories were even wilder. The only things almost everyone agreed on was that he was Russian, or at least he used to be, and he had metal arm. One of the tamer theories Clint heard was that it was simply a title; given to the male version of the Black Widow and there was a new one every generation. Despite it being pretty tame, Clint still thought it was still a little too convoluted. Though, that didn’t stop him from asking Natasha about it when she was brought into the fold. She’d gone silent, a distant look in her eyes, then quietly told him that she did not remember him. And she didn’t want to. Clint didn’t ask about it again.

               Until SHIELD falls.

               When everything he worked so hard for comes crumbling down around him, and the sky over DC is full of burning debris, and the undercover mission he is on stops being so undercover, he regrets not asking Natasha about it. He regrets not helping her try and remember. Because the TVs are plastered with the image of a man with a metal arm, and everyone is whispering about Hydra and the Red Room and The Winter Soldier. And Clint is so, terribly lost.

 

               Natasha finds him a week later. Drags him out of the bar he’s been hiding in while he nurses his wounds. She takes him to the Tower and offers him a choice, just as he had done for her all those years ago.

               Despite his regrets, it takes him days to ask about the Winter Soldier. She tells him that she still can’t remember him. At least, not from the time before SHEILD; she definitely remembers him shooting her in Odessa. But she tells Clint what she knows. And despite the multitude of crazy theories Clint has heard over the years, he is not prepared for what comes out of Natasha’s mouth. But really, no one could have guessed that it was Bucky fucking Barnes. After everything that Natasha tells him, he feels sorry for the guy. He hopes that Steve finds him.

                A year later, when Steve brings Bucky home to the New Avengers facility, Clint thinks that he has gotten used to the idea; he has prepared himself enough to meet him. He was wrong. Because James Barnes is devastating.

                He’s standing in the lobby with Sam, while Steve talks to Fury, when Clint sees him. Barnes is all contained power, and Clint can see the tension he is holding in his shoulders. The guy is obviously on edge and trying not to move while his eyes take in everything around him. Clint remembers that, the hypervigilance; remembers it from his days as a merc, and from the days after Loki.

                Clint approaches Sam, and he can see when Barnes notices he is coming in their direction. Barnes stiffens, his hands clenching. Clint nods at him in acknowledgement, but doesn’t try and engage; instead he turns his attention to Sam.

                “Hey Wilson, good to see you,” Clint says.

                “Hey man,” Sam says reaching out and clasping Clint’s hand. “Good to see you too. This is James Barnes,” he continues, with a jerk of his head towards Barnes. “James, this is Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye.”

                Clint nods at Barnes again, knowing it would be a mistake to try and shake his hand. Barnes looks confused, a small crease between his brows.

                “I’ve heard of you,” Barnes says. “You’re a sniper right? I never got the nickname.”

                “Well,” Clint says. “I am a sniper, though these days I mostly work with my bow-”

                “Your bow?” Barnes interrupts. “As in bow and arrows?”

                “Yes as is bow and arrows,” Clint says. “Anyways, I was nicknames Hawkeye because I’m best at a distance; seeing from far away, like a hawk.”

                Barnes nods, seemingly to accept the explanation, but Sam seems to be trying to stifle a laugh.

                “What’s so funny Wilson?”

                “Ah, man. You seem to have forgotten that I hang out with Steve. And that boy _loves_ to tell stories,” Sam says, grinning. “And I know for a fact that ‘Hawkeye’ was the name you were given when you were _in the circus._ ” Clint groans, but Barnes, surprisingly, smiles. Well, it’s close to a smile; one corner of his mouth ticks up and his eyes see, lighter.

                “The circus? Really?” Barnes asks. And Clint would do anything to keep that smile on Barnes’ face, it is so much better than the cracked façade that he’d been wearing when Clint first spotted him.

                “Yeah, really. When my folks died, me and my brother ran away and joined to circus. I had an archery act, ‘The Great Hawkeye: World’s Greatest Marksman’.” He rolls his eyes as he says it, sighing as if it is some great burden to admit it. It’s not of course, especially when a huff escapes Barnes, a huff that Clint is definitely interpreting as a laugh. In his peripheries, he can see that Sam is trying to hide his delighted surprise as he looks at Barnes. Ah, man, if Barnes’ small almost smile causes this much of a reaction in Sam, it must be a rare thing. Clint is starting to see how fucked he is. He has too much of a soft-spot for former Russian assassins on the mend. He looks at Barnes, his long hair is tied back in a messy bun, a few strands escaped to hang in front of his face. Clint can still see the tension in his shoulders, but his hands have relaxed. Yeah, Clint is definitely fucked. He’s only just met the guy, and already he wants to wrap him up in a warm blanket and hold him until all the tension’s gone. Before he can fall too far into this revelation, Steve appears beside Barnes.

                “Hey Clint,” Steve says.

                “Hey Steve. Good talk with Fury?”

                Steve rolls his eyes. “Sure, great talk. I love conversations full of veiled threats. But it doesn’t matter, everything is settled now, which is what matters. ‘Cause it means I can finally go crash on a real bed. Sam, Buck?”

                “Yeah,” Sam says. “I’m about ready to drop. It has been a _long_ trip.”

                “You lead them on quite the chase?” Clint asks Barnes. Barnes shrugs.

                “I had shit to do. Bases to blow. You know,” Barnes replies. And then a small grin appears on Barnes’ face and he looks Clint up and down. “Though, if you’d been with them I might have let them catch up sooner.” And then he turns, and _walks away,_ Steve and Sam quickly moving to catch up.

                Yeah, James Bares is devastating, and Clint is truly, royally, fucked.

               

                Over the next couple months, rumours about Barnes fly throughout the base. That his face is perpetually blank, that he doesn’t sleep, but instead prowls the base at night, that he made a junior agent pass out from just a glare.

                But this time, Clint knows the truth. He knows that Barnes growls and glares and grumbles, but he also smiles if you say the right thing, and if you’re lucky he laughs his quiet huff of a laugh. And as time goes on, the definition of ‘the right thing’ gets more and more broad. When Barnes has nightmares, he walks through the base, checking the rooms of his teammates to make sure they are safe. Sometimes, he finds Clint awake and they talk or play video games or watch movies. And Clint know that sometimes, Barnes finds Wanda awake after her own nightmare and they go to the roof and watch the stars and remind each other that Hydra no longer had them. (Clint know this because he worries about Wanda, and one night he’d found her room empty and he’d been told by the base’s version of Jarvis that he would find her on the roof. He’d found them, sitting on the edge, legs swinging while they talked about the best Russian food they’d ever eaten. Clint was about to sneak back inside when Bucky had turned his head and saw him. He waved him over and Clint went. He’s sat between them, with their heads on his shoulders, and told them of the times when Nat got homesick, would cook up a storm, and then make Clint eat it all with her. They’d laughed and it had been nice, but Clint recognized that this was a time for the two of them, and he did not infringe upon it again.) As for the fainting agent, that one was actually true.

                Well, sorta.

                The agent had been injured in a fight against Hydra, hit her head and was losing blood. Bucky had talked to her, making sure she stayed awake until the doc could have a look at her. And Bucky had decided that the best way to entertain her was to flirt, outrageously. The agent had been surprised and laughing, and hadn’t passed out until later, when the doc gave her the good drugs.

               Clint thinks the reason the last one got so blown up is because no one can imagine Bucky flirting. Which Clint understands; the Bucky who had arrived months previously hadn’t been a much of a flirt. But now, the guy flirts with everyone. _Everyone,_ but especially Clint.

               “Barnes!” Clint snaps, after Bucky has made yet another innuendo about Clint’s arrows while he is trying to do repairs.

               “For the 4th time, _today_ , its Bucky.”

               “Fine, _Bucky,_ ” Clint says, rolling his eyes. “Stop.”

               “Stop what?” Bucky asks innocently.

               “Stop flirting! It’s distracting. I know you’re not serious, but it’s just…” he trails off, distracted by the confused look on Bucky’s face.

               “Not serious?” Bucky asks, stepping into Clint’s personal space. “Why do you think I’m not being serious?” Clint rolls his eyes again, but doesn’t step back.

               “’Cause you flirt with everyone.”

               “I do, yeah, but just for fun. They know I’m joking.”

               “Yeah, and so do I,” Clint says.

               “But you flirt _back,_ ” Bucky says. “Well, when you’re not distracted by arrows,” he continues with a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle. Clint nods a little, entirely flabbergasted but putting a lot of things together in his head. Bucky choses that moment to kiss him, firm but with soft lips. Clint presses himself up into it, a hand going to Bucky’s neck, the other to grip his hip. When they break apart, they are both grinning like idiots.

               “So, we were both being serious then?” Bucky asks.

               “Apparently,” Clint says. Bucky laughs, kissing him again.

               Clint never does finish his arrow repairs that day.

               So, Clint knows the truth. Bucky Barnes was the Winter Soldier. He is fiercely protective of those he cares about. He likes cuddles on cold days. He knows how to kill a man six ways with a paperclip, and hates that he knows it. And he loves Clint. Which is the most important truth of all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Myths & Rumors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578630) by [AlannaLioness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaLioness/pseuds/AlannaLioness)




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